


business as usual

by MURMAlDER



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: & I love them BOTH, Charles is basically a dad, Dialogue Heavy, Wholesome, and Skwisgaar is a dummy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 14:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21210149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MURMAlDER/pseuds/MURMAlDER
Summary: remember when you were a little kid and your parents would talk on the phone and you'd try to talk to them but they're just like "shhh I'm busy"





	business as usual

**Author's Note:**

> CFO be like "business business business coffee business business"
> 
> this is very dialogue focused & I'm sorry I'm not better at ~sEtTiNg tHe sCeNe~ LMAO
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Charles let out a sigh, glad to finally reach a compromise after negotiating a licensing agreement for 1 hour on the phone. Then he shut his eyes and rubbed his temple as soon as he remembered that he left 2 other calls on hold. He took a deep breath, and thought to himself, _I'll count to ten, and then I'll be the manager, legal advisor, and chief financial officer of Dethklok again._

The door handle twisted, and in walked Skwisgaar Skwigelf. Charles didn't pay him much attention; his ten seconds of relaxation were up so he had to go back to work. Charles returned the first call on his Bluetooth set, saying, "I'm sorry I took so long, I had business to attend to. What were you having trouble with?"

Skwisgaar sat across from Charles, and kicked his feet up on the desk. He absentmindedly practiced snippets of a solo. "Ahh," the guitarist sighed. "I know it ams your birthdays comingks up..."

Charles looked at Skwisgaar with his blank, business-as-usual demeanor. "Well, did you see the attached document?"

Skwisgaar shrugged. "Ja. We ams goings down under to plays for the kangskamaroos. In Auuustraaliaaaa," the Swede took his time pronouncing.

Charles shook his head. "…No, from Monday's email."

"Ah. I didn't sees that one," Skwisgaar answered.

Charles turned his head and tapped his ear in a gesture to show that he's talking on the phone. "Well, you should check it," he said, "it contains all the information you need to know."

Skwisgaar stopped playing his guitar. "I don't checks the emails…"

"Ah, excuse me just a moment," Charles said, putting the conversation on hold once again. "Skwisgaar, I'm on the phone. I'm not talking to you."

Skwisgaar gave his manager a pouty expression. "How rudes," he said.

Charles folded his hands on his desk and glanced over at Skwisgaar's grimy boots on the table. And he called _Charles_ rude.

"I just wanted the nice conversations with mine managers," Skwisgaar continued.

"I'm very busy, Skwisgaar, please give me 5 minutes. You're welcome to stay, but please be quiet."

"Okej."

Charles went back to his business conversation. "Sorry about that, I've got, uh, a lot on my plate, as usual. You need to meet me in my office in about an hour so we can discuss the upcoming events."

Skwisgaar looked confused, double-checking that he was in fact inside Offdensen's office. "But I ams here alreadys…"

"Don't forget to check that file before coming in, alright? Oh, and please _knock_," he emphasized as he glared at the guitarist. "I have to go, I've got another call." Charles returned the second call on hold. "Hey Abigail, is, uh, everything okay?"

"Uh, ams Skwisgaar," the Swede said. "Wanted to ask you whats that you wants what for youms birthdays."

"Is the slated release time still for next spring?"

"Pfff, good lucks," Skwisgaar scoffed. "Pickle not recordings, and Nathans deletes everythings. But mine solos, of course. Most prefect ams always."

"Well, the Australia trip is just before Thanksgiving, which gives the boys a week of rest before crackdown time," Charles explained.

Skwisgaar leaned further back in the chair. "We will finish the recordings by then, I makes the promise. Or, what happens, I will finish mines recording."

"Yes, that's great, Skwisgaar, make sure the Klokateers pack for the boys before Australia. I don't want a recurrence of the last vacation you sent them on."

"Vacations? We gots the fucking shows, that ams no vacations," Skwisgaar complained.

Charles still paid him little attention. "Good luck with that. Just call me if anything happens, I'll be in my office." The manager hung up and removed his Bluetooth headset, placing it on the desk between them.

Skwisgaar looked at it, unsure what it was, awaiting an explanation by his manager.

Of course _now_ he shuts up.

"Skwisgaar…how did you know my birthday is soon? I don't remember telling you or your bandmates."

"Of course I knows your birthdays, pappa."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Ah. Excuse me?"

"Huh. You needs the driver license to drives right? I don't haves the license, so I takes yours. Says your birthdays right on there," Skwisgaar explained.

Charles took his wallet out to inspect it. As expected, his driver's license was missing. "Skwisgaar…give me my license."

Skwisgaar returned Charles' license. "Heres you goes. Nice pictures, by the ways."

"Skwisgaar, we don't even look similar. And you shouldn't be using my license even if we did look similar," Charles reprimanded him.

Skwisgaar had a justified reason, however. "Pickle wanted the ice creams."

Not justified enough for Charles. "Pickles has a driver's license."

Validating his justification, Skwisgaar added, "Pickle ams wasted when he wants to goes. So he ask me to takes hims."

"Ok, I'll give you that." Charles was glad his boys, or at least one of them, made a somewhat wise, if anything, a safer decision for once. "Still, you could've asked Nathan."

"Hims recordingks."

"Murderface?"

"Ehh," Skwisgaar started practicing his solos again.

"There's always Klokateers. Hell, you could've asked me and I would've taken you. Besides, I'm sure there's ice cream in the kitchen."

Skwisgaar scowled. "Where ams the kitchens?"

Charles literally didn't know how to respond. Unless Skwisgaar just forgot how to translate 'kitchen' into Swedish, he couldn't believe he was _that_ airheaded. Giving Skwisgaar the benefit of the doubt, Charles simply told him, "get out of my office."

Skwisgaar didn't budge at his manager's demand. "But no, I needs to know whats you wants for your birthdays!"

Charles held his head in his palms, trying to relieve the tension pounding in his brain. "A break, Skwisgaar. I want you to find out where the kitchen is."

His fingers quietly tapping the fretboard, Skwisgaar kept pestering Charles. "No new slipsar…new kostym…a new bongs…"

"Get out of my office," Charles repeated.

Skwisgaar stood up. "Ok, fines, I leaves now."

"Thank you."

"Sees you laters."

"Yes. Bye, Skwisgaar."

"Hejdå, Charles."

Just before Skwisgaar was about to leave, Charles spoke up. "Well, uh…um, a new bong would be nice."

Skwisgaar turned and gave his manager a sly smile. "Ahhh, I knows it. I gets that for you. Anythings for the world's best and most brutals managers!"


End file.
